There's a little tiny flocked-horse key chain sitting by the sign that marks the housing development across from the undiscovered country. ("flocked horse" is a funny term, but I know that's what this little horse key chain is because I've seen similar horses so described in toy catalogues.) And look, this is pretty much exactly the keychain. The one by the development doesn't have a key, though:

Why doesn't the child who left it there come for it? My eight-year-old self would love to play with it. But my weather-beaten wanderer self is just going to leave it there. Some things get claimed, some things don't. There's a certain rainbow-colored mitten that someone stuck on a branch by the sidewalk going to the supermarket; it's been there for more than a year. Maybe more than two years. No one is going to claim it.

In other news, my friend in Paris said, "Back when you were living in the XX co-op during college, did you know someone named Barry Z--?"

I had not heard that name in as many years as I've been out of college, and I didn't really know Mr. Z. at all. I maybe said three words to him the whole time I lived there. But when I read that name, I suddenly remembered his face. Memory sure is strange.

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It's always sad to see a toy separated from its child. The toy looks so lonely and forlorn...

I love to go into a house, or anyplace, and see toys scattered about...it reminds me that little ones live there, and that comforts me. Even if the room is empty, I imagine the sound of laughter, the sounds of princes and princesses in make believe kingdoms, dragons and knights, make believe moms and dads, jedis, ninjas, all from the silent toys scattered about.

I wonder if that flocked horse has a name...I'm a believer in names and using them...I wish I could remember the Madeline L'Engle quote about if you love something give it a name, sorry, can't remember.

I have a feeling that because this was on a keychain, it may have belonged to an older person who isn't missing it. But it would be great if someone else adopted it. It's funny how cirucumspect and respectful-of-other-people's-things the kids who live in that neighborhood must be, not to just claim it for their own.

Or maybe they haven't noticed it.

Or maybe they'd prefer something that didn't come attached to a keychain.